


edit the bad parts

by lolainslackss



Series: exycast [1]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: ASMR, Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Podcast, Zine AU, podcast au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:50:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolainslackss/pseuds/lolainslackss
Summary: Neil Josten starts a new high school and has to take an extra-curricular activity. Panicked, he chooses to work with Kevin Day on Exycast - a podcast for Exy fans.It's just unfortunate that the two of them have to share their club room with a trio of cousins who run a creative writing zine called Monstrrr and are extremely loud and annoying.





	edit the bad parts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moonix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix/gifts).



> me and [moonix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonix) once chatted about Andrew getting ASMR which is a teensy part of this fic, so this one is dedicated to her (also cuz she's my fave fic writer ever). <3

**ONE.**

 

"Remind me why you're here, Neil," The principal asked all of a sudden.

Neil supposed the principal had noticed that he'd been tuning out, not listening to the seemingly endless monologue about _fitting in_ and _achieving_ and finding his _school spirit_.

Neil hadn't meant to zone out. He just found the birds circling just outside the window far more interesting than thinking about his non-existent _school spirit_.

So, why was he here? It was simple, really. Stuart had given him an ultimatum: school or therapy, and Neil _hated_ therapy.

Neil had no idea why Stuart had become so damn _avuncular_ all of a sudden. Since he'd entered his uncle's care, Stuart had allowed him to be homeschooled. It had suited them both. Until it didn't.

It might have had something to do with Neil spending all his free time in bed, not eating, sleeping far too often, lapsing into periods of silence that sometimes lasted for days, the kinds of things adults didn't really like.

"You aren't coping," Stuart had said, crossing his arms.

"This _is_ how I cope," Neil muttered, barely lifting his head off the pillow.

"When's the last time you went outside?" Stuart countered.

"What would I need to go outside _for_?" Neil shot back bitterly.

"You have two choices," Stuart went on. "School or therapy."

"School?" Neil had repeated. "But there would only be one year left. What would be the point?"

"I'm waiting for a decision," Stuart said, pointedly ignoring what Neil thought was a very good question.

"I'm not going to therapy," Neil said eventually, pulling the blanket up over his head.

"I'll call the local high school," Stuart replied easily. "You can start on Monday."

Neil spent the rest of the day sulking, refusing to believe he'd actually have to leave the house come Monday and kind of hoping Stuart would go on a long business trip and conveniently forget. As the rest of the week sped by, he realised Stuart was serious.

Neil woke up on Saturday to a new backpack and stationary set outside of his door. On Sunday, the housekeeper asked him what he'd like prepared for his school lunch. Neil went back to bed without answering and watched Exy games for the rest of the day.

On Monday morning he was rudely awoken by Stuart and once he was showered and dressed, he was practically shoved into a waiting car.

On the ride there, he stared out the window and tried to convince himself it wasn't that bad. At high school he could at least keep his head down. He could attempt to blend in, become invisible if he had to. He wouldn't be scrutinised and analysed the way he would be in a therapist's office.

He could live with high school, for a year at least.

When the principal started talking he almost reconsidered that last part.

"I'm here to learn, Sir," Neil answered the principal's question with what he hoped was minimal sarcasm.

"Good," The principal replied, before shuffling Neil's papers together in a way that implied their painful discussion was nearly over.

Then, "What will you take as an extra-curricular?"

"I'm sorry?" Neil replied. "Do I _have_ to take an extra-curricular?"

"Of course," The principal confirmed, raising his bushy brows. "It's a requirement here at Greenacre. One extra-curricular is compulsory. Of course, we recommend two for a _perfect_ college application, but one is sufficient."

Neil glared at him coolly. Stuart hadn't mentioned _that_ when he'd offered Neil his choice. Suddenly, therapy was sounding a little more inviting.

"We have a huge range of after-school clubs and practices," The principal continued, sliding a double-sided sheet of A4 towards Neil.

Neil picked it up and scanned the list.

"No Exy?" He asked, unsurprised. Exy was the only thing he would have considered, even though he hadn't played since he'd been a kid.

"No," The principal told him. "A little too violent for our tastes."

Neil suppressed a snort.

"We do, however, run an Exy podcast," The principal explained, pointing a wrinkled finger at the sheet, where it did, in fact, read _Exy podcast (Club room 3)_.

"That's very... niche," Neil commented, unsure of how to respond.

The principal gave a quick shrug.

"As extra-curriculars are compulsory here, some students enjoy coming up with their own after-school projects based around their own interests," He told Neil. "As long as it requires some amount of effort or skill."

"I guess I'll do that," Neil conceded with a sigh.

A podcast sounded horrible, but at least it was Exy-related. Plus, the team would probably already be settled into their roles. He could just show up, do the bare minimum, go home. Chances are he wouldn't even have to speak much, if at all. Exy fans were notoriously outspoken.

"Wonderful," The principal said, and he seemed like he meant it. "Kevin will be thrilled."

"Kevin?" Neil echoed. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, the Exy podcast club consists of just one other person," The principal said. "Kevin Day. He'll be excited to have a fellow enthusiast on board, no doubt."

Neil swallowed. His mouth felt very dry. There was no way this Kevin person would let him sit on the sidelines, not speaking. He could explain how he felt, about how talking sometimes exhausted him, but Kevin would probably just find that weird. He could pretend he was only interested in the technical side of things but once he and Kevin started talking about Exy it would become obvious he were a huge fan. Neil tried to slow down his breathing.

 _It's fine_ , Neil told himself. Nobody would listen to a high schooler's podcast produced in a shitty club room. It would be _fine_.

"Are you okay, Neil?" The principal asked.

Neil realised he'd retreated into his hoodie a bit, was digging his fingers into his thighs. He tried to relax, but the tension wouldn't seep out of his hands; they started to ache, and he buried them in the front of his hoodie pocket.

"I'm okay," Neil replied, attempting a reassuring smile. "Shouldn't I be getting to class?"

"I'l walk with you," The principal informed him, as he got to his feet.

Neil followed him out of the door and into the hall.

 

...

 

Neil's first day of classes went by uneventfully. There were a few curious looks shot in his direction, and a few attempts at small talk, but mostly people left him alone. That worked for Neil. He just wanted to get by with as little attention paid to him as possible.

At the end of the school day, he made his way to club room 3. He paused outside the door and read the notice outside. _Club Room 3_ , it read. Underneath was a very short list: _Exy Podcast Club_ followed by _Creative Writing Magazine Club_. Neil narrowed his eyes at the notice. He wasn't aware the room was shared between clubs. He peered in through the small circular window.

On the right side of the room, a serious-looking boy dressed in a Capercailies jersey was fiddling around with a microphone. That had to be Kevin Day, Neil supposed. On the other side of the room, an older, cheerier-looking boy was gathering up papers into a file and chattering away. Kevin was glaring at him, as if to say _shut up_. Neil kicked his toes against the floor in an attempt to dispel his nervous energy. It looked like Kevin was getting ready to begin and Neil felt rooted to the spot. The thought of going inside the room, having to introduce himself, display an interest in recording a podcast physically exhausted him. He felt smothered by the weight of it.

Before he could stop himself, he turned and ran down the hallway. His feet carried him across the parking lot and out of the school gates. The car wasn't scheduled to pick him up for another hour or so, so he ran all the way home. Being cooped up in the house all the time had impacted his running. When he'd been on the run, he'd kept his fitness up in case he ever had to make a quick getaway. Ever since his father had been imprisoned, he'd slowly given up the running. He missed it, though. He missed the fizzy burn of his lungs as he pushed himself further, missed the way his muscles would hum with tension after he'd finished, the steadying ache of stretching out them out afterwards. By the time he was home, he was panting, his hair slick against his sweaty forehead. He immediately went to the kitchen to down a pint of water, feeling his heart rate return to normal as he drank.

Stuart wasn't around, so Neil went up to his room and opened his laptop. After some Googling, he managed to find the podcast's Soundcloud page. There wasn't much detail there, just that it was produced at Greenacre school and ran by Kevin Day. Neil jammed his headphones in and clicked on the most recent upload, _Exycast_ episode five.

As Neil listened, he checked the numbers. It had only been streamed a handful of times. That should have theoretically settled his nerves. There would be hardly anybody out there listening. It wasn't that simple, though. Neil sighed as he pressed play.

The podcast was okay - the production value wasn't great and it was edited together quite choppily, presumably because Kevin was trying to cut out the parts where you could quite clearly hear voices and sounds in the background, but Kevin was obviously quite passionate and knew what he was talking about. Neil pursed his lips and ran his hands through his hair as the podcast came to an end. _Tomorrow_ , he thought to himself. _Tomorrow I will be able to do this_.

He went to bed repeating it to himself over and over, the words a useless litany. He gave up and grabbed his phone. Feeling wide awake and curious, he looked up the Greenacre creative writing magazine. He eventually found a website and a Twitter account. _Monstrrr: A Literary Zine_ , it was called. Neil clicked on a preview of the latest issue. It was all wild scribbled doodles pasted on loud, busy backgrounds, typed-out poems and ink blots. It wasn't Neil's thing at all, and eventually he got bored of looking at it so he switched to listening to some ambient, instrumental music instead. He closed his eyes, tried to think of nothing at all.

He managed to drift away for a while, and then it was morning, and he had to get to school.

 

**TWO.**

 

"Hello?" Neil said, tightening his hand around his bag strap. "Are you- um, Kevin Day?"

Kevin twirled on his heel and looked at Neil. Kevin was still wearing the Capercailies jersey from the previous day. _Greys_ , number twenty-three. Neil silently judged that choice. Greys was an good striker, but too predictable.

"I like your jersey," Neil went on, when Kevin didn't say anything. "I would have gone for Refakes, but okay."

Kevin's eyebrow twitched upwards momentarily, but he smiled politely.

"Are you the new club member?" He asked, sliding his hand towards Neil.

Neil looked at it. He'd never met a high-school kid who shook hands, but then again, he hadn't met many high-school kids. He shook Kevin's hand and nodded.

"What happened to you yesterday?" Kevin asked.

"Something came up," Neil lied.

"That's too bad," Kevin said. "I wanted your help planning the next episode."

"Well," Neil replied awkwardly, "I'm here now."

Kevin considered that and nodded once firmly. He gestured towards the large desk. There was a computer there, as well as a fancy-looking computer and a few Exy magazines.

"This is where I make the podcast," Kevin explained as if that wasn't obvious. Neil hummed, feigning interest, as Kevin started talking about how good the microphone was and how he'd pushed the principal to get the more expensive model.

"The only problem," Kevin said, frowning all of a sudden, "is that we have to share the room with _them._ "

"The magazine people?" Neil prompted.

"Yes," Kevin said darkly. "They're annoying."

As if summoned by Kevin's distaste for them, three boys made their way into the room. Neil turned to watch them enter, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the amount of people he'd have to introduce himself to.

The boy he'd seen yesterday entered first. He was dark-skinned and grinning. He had long, curly dark hair and was wearing a powder-blue cardigan that was adorned with a series of sparkly enamel pins. He was followed by a shorter boy who was wearing a denim jacket with patches sewn up the sleeves and finally, a boy who Neil could only assume was the twin of the other, as they were identical. They both had light blond hair that was buzzed short on the sides, and pretty hazel eyes. The only difference was that the one who came in last was wearing a beat-up leather jacket instead of denim, and was sucking on a lollipop as if it were the most delicious thing in the world. The twins regarded Neil and Kevin with minimal interest before sitting on opposite ends of the long table across the way.

"Ah, Kev, is this your new pal?" The other boy called out, walking towards them.

"Nicky, this is Neil," Kevin grumbled. "He's going to be working on _Exycast_ with me."

"Amazing!" Nicky exclaimed, though Neil wasn't sure what was so amazing about it.

"I'm Nicky," Nicky went on. "I help the boys - oh, they're my cousins, you see - with their magazine."

"It's a zine," Said leather-jacket, crossing his legs and pulling out his phone.

" _Zine_ , right, right," Nicky said breezily. "Well, that's Andrew. He's the editor. And that's Aaron, who does the design stuff."

Neither twin looked over. Andrew was tapping on his phone screen, the annoying bleeps indicating he was playing some kind of game, and Aaron had pulled out a notebook and was already doodling away. As they didn't say anything, Nicky continued.

"I mainly do the social media stuff and run copies to the printers, stuff like that. It's fun," He said.

Andrew huffed an unamused laugh out of his nose.

"They're quite quiet, but give them a few weeks and you'll be fond of them, just like Kevin," Nicky said, speaking more quietly even though it was obvious the twins could still hear.

"I am _not_ fond of them," Kevin stated, folding his arms, "and just because they don't talk to me doesn't mean they're not loud and annoying in other ways."

Andrew's phone chimed away pointedly.

"You're not even recording right now," Aaron muttered without looking up from the paper he was scribbling on.

"Yeah, but we still need quiet to concentrate on planning the next episode," Kevin snapped.

Aaron shrugged and Kevin rolled his eyes, looking to Neil as if to say, _see?_

"Well," Nicky said with forced cheer, "I have to run to the copy shop. We're having a fundraiser for the next issue, and I'm going to get flyers printed."

"What's the fundraiser?" Neil asked, just to be polite, rather than out of genuine curiosity.

Nicky's face lit up.

"I'm glad you ask, Neil," He said. "It's going to be a date auction."

"I thought we were doing a poetry slam," Andrew said, pausing his game and raising his head to look at Nicky. There was something there, in his eyes - some kind of quiet tension. Neil couldn't really figure out the source of it so just looked between the cousins.

"We're doing both," Nicky began, his breezy tone strained. "The slam first and the auction later. We need to do the auction to make any kind of money, Andrew."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it," Andrew said, holding Nicky's gaze for a moment before the tension slipped away into boredom and he resumed his game.

Nicky sighed fleetingly and then immediately perked up.

"It'll be fun," He said emphatically.

"We're not going," Kevin told Neil.

"Oh, Kevin, you're no fun," Nicky replied, pouting a little. "Neil, you have to come so that you can bid on me."

Before Neil could respond to that, Nicky was leaving with a wink.

"Let's get to work," Kevin said, rubbing his hand against his forehead as if he were warding off a migraine.

As Neil began to get settled, the cutesy beeps emanating from Andrew's phone stopped and loud punk music started playing in its stead. Neil watched as Kevin clenched his fists on top of the table.

"Are you going to shut up?" Kevin shouted at Andrew.

"The music helps me edit," Andrew replied with an exaggerated shrug.

"I don't care," Kevin bit out. "We have work to do."

"So do we," Andrew argued, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth and brandishing it at Kevin like a gun. "We need to get the next issue ready."

"And you can do it," Kevin countered, "in silence."

"Listening to music is the only thing that makes reading all this shitty poetry bearable," Andrew said, shuffling the pile of submissions in front of him and pretending to read them.

" _Fine_ ," Kevin snapped, standing up so fast his chair shot backwards. "We can plan somewhere else. Neil, let's go."

"They'll have music on in the juice bar, you know," Andrew drawled, rolling his eyes as if to say Kevin was being the biggest drama queen alive.

"Yeah, but your inconsiderate ass won't be there," Kevin replied, holding the door open for Neil.

Neil glanced backwards once and Andrew grinned at him, flashing his teeth. Neil slipped out of the room and tried not to wince as Kevin slammed the door closed.

"I _told_ you," Kevin was ranting as they walked fast down the hall. "They're so annoying. They're acting out because there's someone new around as well. It's so _typical_. They better not do that when we next need to record."

Neil didn't reply and followed Kevin as they left the school and headed towards town. They eventually got to a juice bar. Kevin sat near the window and shoved a menu into Neil's hands.

"Build your own juice," Neil read out loud. "What does that mean?"

"It means you pick all your ingredients and they make it up for you," Kevin explained easily. "You've never been here before?"

"No," Neil answered.

"Of course," Kevin said. "You've just moved here."

Neil hummed, unsure if he should confirm or deny Kevin's assumption. He settled on just looking like he was too absorbed in reading the menu.

Neil ordered an orange, carrot and ginger juice, and Kevin asked for the special salad.

"You're not hungry?" Kevin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't think so," Neil replied. He hadn't really thought about food since lunch time. Eating regularly was something he could forget to pay attention to. He wondered if he should order something.

"So, I'm thinking that now there are two of us, it would be interesting to do some rankings, so that we can see how our opinions differ - it would be a good starting point for the next episode anyway," Kevin said. "We should work on compiling some lists of out top ten teams, strikers, and so on."

"Okay," Neil said.

The waitress arrived with Neil's juice and Kevin's salad.

"How long have you been into Exy?" Kevin asked, pushing his fork into a plump wedge of cucumber.

"Since I was a kid," Neil replied with a shrug. "You seem so passionate, yet you don't play?"

"That's cause our school doesn't have a team," Kevin answered, frowning slightly. "I wanna try out when I go to college."

"Don't they recruit the best high school players, though?" Neil pointed out.

"Well, yeah," Kevin agreed, pushing the salad leaves around and swirling them into the dressing, "but me and my Dad practice, and I sometimes meet with a casual team on weekends. Do you play?"

"Not anymore," Neil said after hesitating a little.

"You'll start again in college, then?" Kevin pushed.

"I don't know," Neil replied, fiddling with his straw. "I never really thought about it."

"But you are _going_ , right?" Kevin asked, his eyes widening. "To college?"

"Um," Neil began, "I never really thought about that, either."

"Well, you should," Kevin told him, and Neil suppressed the urge to tell him to mind his own business.

Neil shrugged and slurped up the last of his juice.

"Want some of this?" Kevin asked, pushing his salad towards Neil.

Neil picked at the spinach leaves as Kevin started chatting about Exy again. Eventually, Neil was coaxed into the conversation. They shared a love of the Capercailies, and they both liked strikers the best. They had completely differing views on strategies and formations, however, but talking about that was fun too. _Fun_ , Neil thought, as they began chatting animatedly about the best brands of Exy racquets. It _was_ fun. That didn't soothe his one worry, though.

"Is it scary?" Neil asked eventually, when they were about to leave.

"Is what scary?" Kevin asked, nonplussed.

"You know," Neil said vaguely. "Recording?"

"Oh," Kevin said, his face softening with understanding. "It's a little... strange, at first. It feels weird sitting talking by yourself, but you get used to it, and you can edit the bad parts. It'll be nice to have someone else there, someone to bounce ideas off of."

"Yeah," Neil said unsurely. "I'm um- I'm not much of a talker."

"That's okay," Kevin replied, shrugging as if it were no big deal. "We'll just see how it goes."

Neil smiled and slung his bag over his shoulder. Kevin had said it was no big deal if he struggled. Neil hoped he meant it. They paid for the juice and the salad and headed out into the world.

 

**THREE.**

 

Neil entered the club room to the tinny sound of sporadic pinging and cheery music coming from Andrew's phone.

"Is he still playing that stupid game?" Neil asked Kevin quietly.

"Yes," Kevin fumed. "Did you make your lists?"

"Yeah," Neil replied, pulling his notebook out of his bag. "It took hours narrowing it down."

Kevin looked over Neil's lists and compared them with his own. Neil waited for him to comment but he didn't. He filed the papers away and then handed Neil a copy of the latest Exy magazine.

"I usually start the show with a news round-up," Kevin told him. "Can you look through that and make sure I haven't missed anything out?"

"Okay," Neil said, flipping the magazine open and pulling Kevin's neatly-written notes towards him.

He made it through about four pages of the magazine before the noise coming from Andrew's phone started to piss him off. He clenched his teeth and stood up.

"What are you doing?" Kevin asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"I'm going to ask him to knock it off," Neil told Kevin.

"I've tried that," Kevin hissed. "Multiple times. You're just wasting your time."

"I'll just ask," Neil insisted, waving his hand at Kevin dismissively.

He walked over to where Andrew was lying down on the table, his boots flat on the surface, knees pointing toward the ceiling. He didn't even look up as Neil approached.

"Hey," Neil said, standing over him. "Can you shut that off for a bit? We're trying to concentrate."

Andrew blinked, and his eyes flicked from the screen to the ceiling momentarily, before he moved forward into a sitting position, crossing one leg over the other.

"Let's say that I agree," Andrew said, placing his phone face down on the table. "What will you give me in return?"

"What do you want?" Neil shot back.

Neil heard Aaron's pencil stop scratching against the paper, heard the screech of Kevin's chair as he turned round to watch them.

Andrew regarded Neil coolly before reaching down to his right. He slid a wedge of paper into Neil's hands.

"Read some of those for me," He instructed. "Let me know if there's anything good."

Neil eyed the poetry submissions in his hand warily.

"I'm not much of a poetry person-" He began.

"Surprise yourself," Andrew interrupted, before lying down on the table again. Instead of picking up his phone, however, he closed his eyes and drew his arm across his eyes, blocking out the light.

Neil stomped back over to the other side of the club room where Kevin was staring at him searchingly.

"You're already busy," Kevin pointed out, shooting an icy glare in Andrew's direction.

"I'll just read a couple," Neil replied with a shrug. "If it gets him to shut up, who cares?"

" _I_ care," Kevin shot back. "He's supposed to be the editor. He should be reading them."

"I can hear you," Andrew's bored voice carried across the room.

Kevin pressed his lips together and snatched the Exy magazine from Neil. As he began to fact check the notes for the next _Exycast_ episode, Neil read through some of the submissions. The poems weren't very good, but some of them were surely publishable. Neil marked the ones that weren't too terrible with a tiny star. When he'd gotten through the slender pile, he took them back over to Andrew.

"They're mostly rubbish," Neil told him, tossing the papers on the table near Andrew's feet. "I marked the ones that were less terrible than the others."

"They're all terrible," Andrew muttered, sitting up once again.

"So you _did_ read them?" Neil asked hotly.

"Of course," Andrew replied, amused. "I'm the editor, aren't I?"

"Then what was the point of getting me to read them?" Neil asked.

"I needed a second opinion," Andrew replied with a shrug. "Otherwise, they'd have all gone in the trash and it would be back to square one."

"If you hate all the submissions so much, why do you even both making the zine, then?" Neil persisted, crossing his arms across his chest.

"Had to do something," Andrew said blankly. "Weren't you forced into this too?"

Neil turned to look at Kevin, who was huddled over his notes, scribbling furiously. He thought about what Kevin had said about Exy, and playing with his Dad, and going to college. _I want to be like Kevin_ , he thought, quite suddenly. The thought was a sad one, he knew that. He swallowed the lump that had forced its way into his throat.

"I like Exy," Neil managed weakly.

"How unfortunate for you," Andrew said sarcastically.

Neil suddenly felt very tired. He wished he was in bed, in the dark, wished he were a million miles away, _more_. He tore his gaze away from Kevin and stared at Andrew instead. Andrew didn't take his eyes off him.

"We had a deal," Andrew said finally, causing Neil to snap out of his daze. "I'll be quiet for now, so you can go back to making your precious podcast."

Neil raised his eyebrows questioningly, and Andrew mimed pulling a zipper across his mouth.

"Ready to go over these notes?" Kevin asked him gruffly as Neil sat back down.

"Sure," Neil said, offering Kevin a small smile.

He grabbed the notes and started reading.

 

**FOUR.**

 

Kevin was late.

Neil dropped his stuff at his usual chair and turned to inspect the room. The cousins were there; Nicky typing away, Aaron cutting and pasting his latest doodles to make a collage, and Andrew perched on the table, headphones in, an expression on his face that Neil would almost call relaxed. It was weird - he'd only ever seen Andrew look blank and bored, barring that one time Nicky brought up the date auction. Then, Andrew had looked angry for about ten seconds before the tension vanished. He'd never seen Andrew look peaceful or calm. But then, he wasn't sure when he'd last seen _himself_ look anything close to calm either.

He was tempted to catch a five-minute nap on the desk before Kevin arrived, but before he could stop himself, he was wandering over to where Andrew was sitting.

"What are you listening to?" Neil asked, pointing to Andrew's headphones as if to say _take them out, I'm talking to you_.

Andrew's expression shifted, and his gaze turned hard. He considered Neil for a minute, before taking out his right earbud and handing it to Neil. Neil shifted closer and hooked in the earbud. Andrew then tilted his screen so that Neil could see.

It was a YouTube video. The woman in it was slowly opening and closing thick journals, flicking through the pages and whispering about the journal - where she'd bought it, why she liked it. Her voice was so soft and it felt like she was whispering directly into Neil's ear. Neil watched for a minute or so before pulling out the earbud.

"I don't get it," Neil told Andrew. "Are you buying a new journal?"

Andrew exhaled heavily and pressed pause on the video.

"It's an ASMR video," Andrew explained. "You ever heard of it?"

Neil shook his head.

"It stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response," Aaron drawled, smothering the page in front of him with glue.

"It's this _feeling_ that some people get when they listen to certain sounds, or watch certain movements," Andrew explained, waving his hands around vaguely. "For me it's kind of a warm, tingly feeling that starts in my head and eventually creeps down my limbs. It's... relaxing, I guess."

Neil nodded. He supposed that made sense. When he listened to music at night, it sometimes calmed him down. It sounded like that, only _different_.

"So her whispering makes you feel all calm and tingly?" Neil asked, curious.

Andrew pulled a face at Neil's wording but nodded.

"I like the whispers, or even just... soft talking," Andrew managed to say, though to Neil it looked like he hated himself for saying it, like he thought it sounded- _weak_ or silly or something.

"I like it when they tap against glass," Aaron added. "It's nice."

"That's good," Neil said. "That you have something you can turn to when you need to relax. It sounds nice."

Andrew watched Neil very carefully.

"What?" Neil asked.

"You still have the earbud," Andrew said. His voice was feather-light, but so clear. Neil blinked and handed back the earbud, realising as he did so that he was still leaning into Andrew's space. He leant back quickly and turned on his heel to head back to the podcast station.

"Thanks," Neil said, as he began to walk away.

"For what?" Andrew asked, annoyed.

"For bringing headphones today," Neil replied, unable to stop himself from smirking.

Andrew narrowed his eyes at him and yanked the headphones out of the jack. Instead of flooding the room with the sound of soft whispering, however, Andrew flicked open his Spotify and put on a very noisy playlist.

Neil frowned. Kevin would be there any minute and he was keen to begin recording the next episode. It would be their first episode as a team. The thought filled Neil's stomach with a swarm of butterflies, but it wasn't as terrifying as it had been a mere couple of weeks ago. Something about Kevin put Neil at ease. He knew they'd be able to just chat like they usually did, and that Kevin wouldn't be mad if Neil wanted to take a break to recharge his batteries. Mostly, Neil didn't want to let Kevin down. Kevin was so passionate about Exy, and the podcast, and that made Neil want to _try_. It made him want to try more than he cared to admit.

"I'll make another deal with you if you promise to be quiet for another afternoon," Neil said to Andrew.

"Interesting," Andrew replied. "But what do _you_ have to offer?"

"Seriously, Andrew," Neil went on. "What do I have to do to make you stay quiet while we're recording?"

Andrew tapped his fingers against his chin in mock consideration.

"We need more people to come to this fundraiser," Andrew said eventually. "Buy yourself and Kevin a ticket each. Come enjoy some mediocre poetry."

 _Easy enough_ , Neil thought to himself. He nodded.

"Better yet- !" Nicky interjected. "Neil, we need more people to auction off at the date auction after the slam. You wouldn't be able to help us out, would you? I'm sure we'd get some extra _much-needed_ cash for a cutie like you."

The suggestion made Neil's stomach bottom out. It wasn't just the thought of going on a date with someone he didn't know that freaked him out, but the thought of standing in front of a group of people, being the centre of attention. He could already picture it - a sea of faces, blinding lights, cloying heat that would make his skin prickle. The thought of it made him feel sick. _I can't do that_ , he immediately thought, _I can't stand in front of all those people_.

"Nicky," Andrew said warningly. "I told you that date auction was a bad idea."

"Why?" Nicky whined. "Everyone is so excited about it, Andrew. It's basically a glorified game of spin the bottle. It's the only reason half the school is even coming, because it's flirty and daring and _fun_."

Andrew slid Nicky a dark look. Neil remained silent.

"He doesn't want to," Andrew said firmly. "So shut up before you take a lollipop stick to the neck."

"You don't want to Neil?" Nicky asked, disappointed. "But we're short on participants. I'm genuinely worried about the magazine. It might not survive, you guys."

"It's a _zine_ ," Andrew said.

"Is that true?" Neil asked, suddenly worried. _But you can't_ , a voice inside his head told him, _not in front of all those people_.

"I'm just saying," Nicky continued, "the more people we have involved the better!"

"Don't be manipulated by him," Andrew told Neil. "Date auctions are stupid."

"Yeah, but," Neil started, "Nicky's right. The more people involved the better the result, right?"

Neil didn't know what he was saying. He hated being on display, hated being the subject of attention, but, and it came as a surprise, he also _wanted_ to help out.

"Would I have to talk?" Neil asked finally.

"No, I would do all the talking," Nicky babbled excitedly. "You just show up. I mean, there's the date afterward, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it- thank you so much, Neil!"

Andrew went quiet, and Kevin appeared a minute or so later with an orange, carrot and ginger juice for Neil, and a pineapple juice for himself.

"You ready?" Kevin asked, resting a steady hand on Neil's shoulder. "Just remember that we can edit the bad parts, okay? We have control over this, and it can be whatever we like."

Neil nodded stiffly.

"We'll do news followed by team rankings," Kevin continued. "If you need to take a break, you tell me."

Kevin hit the record button.

Neil breathed in, and breathed out.

 

**FIVE.**

 

The weekend stumbled around. Neil spent Saturday in bed pretending the date auction that night didn't exist.

He balanced his laptop on his tummy and pulled up the _Exycast_ Soundcloud page. Kevin had spent Friday night doing all the editing and had sent Neil a brusque text to let him know it was going live. Neil wanted to listen to it, but didn't have the stomach.

He'd thought it had gone badly. He'd babbled, lapsed into awkward silences, repeated himself, and yet, Kevin had said he'd done great.

"Way better than my first podcast," Kevin had commented sincerely.

Neil buried his face in his hands, unable to click _play_.

When he finally did, he buried his face in his hands, sank into the bed. It was excruciating at first, and his fingers twitched with the longing to put an end to it. Eventually, he got used to it. Kevin was right. You could edit anything to make it sound good. Neil grimaced, but kept listening. He was startled to find that while listening to himself talk was uncomfortable, it _wasn't bad_. He actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

After the episode finished, Neil fell asleep.

He awoke to his alarm beeping. At first, he thought it was Monday morning, and that he had to get to school. Then he realised what the alarm was for: the date auction was starting.

He leapt out of bed and scrambled into some clean jeans before taking off. He cursed himself for falling asleep. He'd promised Nicky over and over that he'd be there.

"Presentable and on time, please!" Nicky had yelled at him as he left the club room.

As it transpired, neither one was seeming likely.

Neil sprinted to the school, where the fundraiser was being held. Neil slipped into the school hall through the fire escape and headed to the backstage area.

" _Neil_ ," Nicky hissed once he saw him. "You're late."

"Sorry," Neil whispered. "Is it nearly time?"

"Neil, you missed it," Nicky said, his face falling slightly, as if he thought Neil would be disappointed.

"Oh, okay," Neil replied. "Does that mean-?"

"Don't worry. I still managed to auction you off," Nicky told him with a wink. "I mean, you mention the cute new kid and everyone knows who you're talking about, right?"

"Right," Neil agreed uncertainly.

"You missed Kevin being auctioned off though," Nicky went on. "He was almost as popular as you were. Thea managed to bag him in the end. I think they're _en route_ to the Waffle House as we speak."

Neil wrinkled his nose. He had no idea Kevin had agreed to be involved. He acted like he couldn't care less about the zine or its noisy production team.

"So?" Neil prompted.

"So?" Nicky repeated blankly.

"Who- um, who did I-" Neil tried. "Who got me?"

"Oh, Andrew got you," Nicky said, like it were the most boring thing in the world.

" _Andrew_?" Neil echoed incredulously. "But he hates stuff like this."

Nicky shrugged.

"Maybe he felt really good after his performance."

"What performance?"

"The poetry slam? It happened before the auction. You are _really_ late."

"I overslept," Neil murmured, still feeling off-kilter, like he was on a fairground ride that had been tilting sideways for way too long.

"Well, Andrew is probably waiting for you," Nicky told him, yawning into his fist. "I'd try the parking lot."

He walked away before Neil could ask any more questions, so Neil decided to head for the parking lot.

The parking lot was mostly empty. A lot of the kids were still inside, lively and rowdy. Some were already leaving, hand-in-hand. Neil jogged toward the far corner.

Andrew was leaning against what Neil assumed was his parked car. He was sucking on a lollipop, but when he saw Neil approaching, he crunched down hard on the candy and tossed the stick aside.

"What are you doing?" Neil asked.

"Waiting for you," Andrew replied, poking his tongue into his back teeth. "Thought you wouldn't show."

"I fell asleep," Neil admitted. "I missed you reading."

Andrew shrugged. He was very still, palms flat against the hood of the sleek, black car and one ankle tucked behind the other.

"You must like poetry," Neil said. "If you write your own, and edit a magazine full of other people's."

Andrew shrugged again.

"It sometimes works," He said, looking at his shoes.

"Works in what way?" Neil asked.

"Makes you feel," Andrew muttered, his hazel eyes meeting Neil's own. In the dark they looked like a deep woodland; they were melted bronze, an oil painting. Neil swallowed.

"You bid on me," Neil said. His voice sounded so loud in the abandoned parking lot.

"And won," Andrew retorted, raising an eyebrow.

"Why?" Neil asked, genuinely curious.

"Because," Andrew said, exhaling sharply through his nose, "you didn't want to do it in the first place, I could tell. I figured I could spare you from the inevitable misery."

"Right," Neil replied. "You expecting a 'thank you' or something?"

"I'm expecting you to head home," Andrew levelled at him. "Isn't that where you want to be?"

Neil shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. He felt uncomfortable, like he was see-through, translucent, yet he also felt real, _concrete_ , like he was the only person left alive.

"What do you want to do?" Neil asked, kicking the toe of his sneaker against the gravel and watching it scatter.

"Drive around?" Andrew suggested. "Go for a walk in the dark? Stare at our shoes?"

Neil thought back to what Nicky had said about Kevin and Thea.

"Why don't we get some waffles?" He suggested.

"That," Andrew said, resting his pointing finger right underneath Neil's collarbone, "is the best idea you've had yet."

 

...

 

Neil ordered a black coffee and cringed as Andrew ordered waffles topped with chocolate sauce, peanut butter drizzle, and crushed Oreo pieces.

"What?" Andrew asked, disgruntled.

Neil shook his head and looked around the diner. He spotted Kevin and Thea in a booth over to the left. He attempted to make psychic contact with Kevin. He failed.

"Why did you agree to do this?" Andrew asked.

"Just wanted to help you guys, I guess."

"Why? You don't seem the sentimental type."

Neil was happy when the waitress came with his coffee and Andrew's pancakes. He thanked her and sipped the steaming-hot liquid, wincing at the burn as it went down.

Andrew began cutting his waffle stack into bite-size chunks.

"Want some?" Andrew asked, pushing the plate forward an inch.

The scent of sugar, sticky and sweet, made Neil's stomach churn. He shook his head.

"You're peculiar," Andrew said, narrowing his eyes at Neil.

Neil didn't know how to respond to that comment so sipped at his too-hot coffee instead.

"Where did you come from?" Andrew murmured, half to himself and half to Neil.

"I was homeschooled," Neil replied, and it was a truth.

Andrew nodded and ate a lump of chocolate-coated waffle.

"Are you seriously curious about my life?" Neil asked, exasperated.

"Yes," Andrew said. "I am seriously curious about your life. You show up out of nowhere, skittish as a stray cat. You say you love Exy, yet you sometimes look like you want to run far, far away from that club room. Why?"

"I don't know," Neil answered.

"Where did you come from?" Andrew asked again, and this time he sounded like he wanted a real answer.

"You won't believe me," Neil replied, giving a bitter-tinged and mirthless laugh.

"Try me," Andrew bit out.

"I grew up in Baltimore," Neil began, his words sounding like they were coming from someone else, like they were floating from the diner speakers, an unknown song. "My Dad was a- a bad guy. When me and my mother ran from him, he made sure we were found. He hurt us. He hurt her a little too hard. He was taken to jail, and I was taken in by my uncle. I- I sometimes worry that he'll come back for me. So that's why, you know? _That's why_."

"You won't be able to rest until he's dead," Andrew replied, phrasing it kind-of-but-not-quite like a question.

"Oh," Neil said, laughing that empty laugh again. "He _is_ dead."

Andrew's spoon hovered above the glistening slice of waffle.

"He was killed in a prison hit," Neil went on. "It just- it doesn't seem real. It's almost like because I didn't see it happen myself, I feel like he's still out there, waiting for me, waiting to kill me."

Neil felt like the diner was slipping away, like the linoleum was turning to nothing, like he was falling into an unfathomable darkness.

Andrew's spoon clattered against his plate, and Neil snapped out of it.

"Drink your coffee," Andrew ordered.

Neil drank in tiny sips.

They sat in silence for a while, and Neil wondered.

 _You won't be able to rest until he's dead_ , Andrew had said. It was partly true. He _knew_ that his father was dead. He almost wished he'd killed his father himself. That would make it real. That would put it to rest: the waiting, the hiding, the wondering. Instead, he still felt unsafe, hunted. He lay in bed all day - too tired to eat, too tired to speak. He didn't know how to let go. He didn't know how to make a life, because he didn't think he'd ever get one.

"I listened to your podcast," Andrew told him, drawing Neil out of his thoughts.

"And?" Neil asked, his fingers tight around his empty mug.

"And I think I hate Exy," Andrew replied, his forehead creasing.

Neil smiled.

"But," Andrew went on, sliding his gaze over Neil's face, "you have a very relaxing voice."

Before Neil could reply, Kevin walked over to them and tapped his fingers against the table top.

"Hey," Neil said.

"Hey," Kevin replied.

"How's it going?" Neil asked, glancing over to Kevin's booth, where Thea was waiting expectantly.

"Do you- do you think she likes me?" Kevin asked, staring pointedly at his fingers.

Andrew snorted.

"Sure," Neil replied. All of a sudden he felt that it was really important that Kevin knew how great he was. He kneeled up in his seat.

"She has to like you," Neil said, more vigorously. "You're great, Kevin. You're passionate, and hard-working, and dedicated."

"Yeah?" Kevin replied. "She likes _Exy_ , Neil."

"Then you're perfect for each other," Neil said. "What's the problem?"

"I wish I were more like you, Neil," Kevin said, groaning. "You're so firm, and honest. You stick to your guns."

"That's not me."

"Yes, it is."

"No way. Kevin, I've spent the last couple of years too scared to leave home. I was terrified to do that podcast with you, to-"

"So?" Kevin interrupted. "You did it anyway, even though you were scared. And you weren't afraid to tell me it might make you nervous. And you got _these fuckers_ to back off when they were being noisy. You would just tell Thea you liked her, wouldn't you?"

"Kevin-"

"I'm going to do it. I'm going to be more like you, Neil."

Before Neil could protest, Kevin was rushing back to his booth. Neil sighed and flopped into his seat once again.

Andrew raised an eyebrow.

"What would you do if he went off like that while you were recording?" Andrew asked, shoving his empty plate aside.

Neil huffed out a laugh.

"We edit out the bad parts," He replied.

Andrew pressed his lips together.

"I'll drive you home," He said.

As they left the diner, the night sky was full of stars.

 

**SIX.**

 

"We need to get more listeners," Kevin announced as he walked into the club room.

Neil stopped fiddling with the microphone and turned to face him.

It had been weeks since the date auction. Kevin and Thea were officially dating, and Neil had decided to come clean. He'd treated Kevin to a juice and a salad and told him everything he'd told Andrew: about the hurt, and the running, and the panic. He told him about the panic that still existed, that crept up on him late at night, hung over his head like a knife on a weak string.

Kevin had accepted it without a word. He'd finished his juice and they'd gone back to school to work on the latest episode as if nothing had gone on. Neil didn't mind. He felt weightless. He felt like telling Andrew and Kevin had let loose something inside of him, had set a small part of him free.

"How?" Neil responded.

"I don't know?" Kevin bristled. "Social media?"

"Funny you should mention that," Aaron said, walking over to their station. "I've been doodling logos for your podcast - you could use them, if you like. I can make banners too, whatever."

Kevin and Neil gaped at him.

"What?" Aaron asked, slipping his sketches onto the table before walking away.

Neil caught Andrew's eye from across the room. Andrew looked at him as if to say _what?_

Neil smiled and shook his head.

"What are you thinking for the new episode?" Kevin asked, taking a seat.

"I thought we could talk about the best partnerships in Exy history," Neil explained excitedly. "You know, the goalkeepers whose partnerships with strikers make them seem like they're speaking a secret language? The tag team strikers who are just forces of nature-"

"Great idea," Kevin replied, scribbling down notes as Neil spoke. "Let's do some research, make a list."

"Right," Neil said, smiling.

"It's a good topic," Kevin went on. "Some Exy players would be nothing without their partners, without their teammates in general."

"You think you'll find that when you go to college?" Neil asked, his heart feeling light in his chest.

"I don't know," Kevin countered, meeting Neil's eye. "Will I?"

Neil breathed in, and breathed out. He was finally starting to enjoy school, to enjoy being a part of something. The future was vast and full of shadows, but for once, he wasn't afraid of meeting it.

"Maybe," He said, flipping open his notebook. "Maybe."

　

 

**Author's Note:**

> title is a play on 'edit the sad parts' by modest mouse :)
> 
> w o w this is a mess :,)


End file.
